Dead
by Infernal Racket
Summary: Narcissa betrayed the Dark Lord, and in doing so, betrayed her own sister. During her search for Draco in the midst of the Battle of Hogwarts, Bellatrix catches up with her little sister.


**I own nothing! I apologise for any inaccuracies regarding plot, statistics, timing and details such as those involved in the Battle of Hogwarts! This contains mature themes which may upset some younger readers, so if you feel the need to spew at the mention of blood, go back now! I love reviews, so don't be shy! Enjoy!**

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The great hall was devastation personified. Hogwarts was a cemetery in the making. The effluvium of death was all around, mingling with the blood and sweat of those still fighting.

A horde of beasts: Dementors, giants and death eaters fought among the brave, the good: house elves, centaurs, witches and wizards. The figures were a blur, intertwining, weaving in and out of one another, ducking and diving. It was a dance to the death.

Narcissa knew that the only way she would be permitted to enter Hogwarts, and find her son, was part of the conquering army. She no longer cared whether Voldemort won.

Narcissa knew that she would pay; with the most valuable thing she owned, her life, but she did not care. All Narcissa cared about at present was her son, her blonde haired boy and his safety.

A storm of hexes, curses and unforgivables whizzed and whipped through the cauldron-black sky. Cursing and killing. A flash of blinding green light narrowly missed Narcissa as she ducked out of the large wooden main doors of the great hall.

In the hall beyond, she was left alone with the repetitive clicking of her muddy, victorian-heeled boots, bar the distant cries of pain from both battling sides; screeching, snarling, sobbing.

"Draco!" Narcissa gulped in a wobbly voice. Her searching was frantic, messy and illogical; she had searched the great hall and the surrounding corridors twice now without realising.

Her heart pounded furiously against her ribcage. Her blue eyes, dark with fear and desperation, skimmed the ruins of the castle only to find not a living soul in sight. Her pace grew with her nerves; she climbed and more often stumbled over rubble and debris.

At a junction, Narcissa stopped. Left or right? Left, no, right.

Slam.

The luxury of choice was snatched away as a strong hand with a vice-like grip claimed her shoulder and shoved her forcefully against the slowly crumbling wall. The connection sent a sharp lightening-like pain down her neck.

Opening her eyes, she was met with the sight of her sister.

Bellatrix's eyes blazed with pure hatred as she glared at the blonde. Magma-red blood was splattered across her forehead and mixed with the dirt that her pale, un-washed complexion had accumulated.

Bellatrix had never looked more deranged.

"You." Bellatrix hissed through gritted teeth, one arm now across her little sister's chest to pin her to the wall.

Narcissa had always known her sister's anger was a tornado that would destroy everything in its path. It could not and would not be controlled; only never before had Narcissa been on the receiving end of Bellatrix's wrath.

Her anger was a fuel to the roaring fire that was her short temper.

"Bella..." Narcissa whimpered in a pleading tone. "Bella I did it for Draco..."

"Silence!" Bellatrix cut her off before she could finish her pathetic, pitiful excuse.

Narcissa shook her head manically and her teary eyes raked her sister's face in search of some sort of compassion or remorse.

"Traitor!" Bellatrix gave Narcissa a vicious jolt, and with her free hand produced a shiny, metallic dagger from her pocket.

"My lord, _my lord_, you betrayed him, you betrayed me!" Bellatrix's tone when mentioning Voldemort was sickly; it dripped with passion and lust for the power-hungry psychopath and contrasted painfully with the tone Bellatrix was now taking with the blonde.

"My _own_ sister, my _own_ blood!" With the last word Bellatrix raised the dagger and tiny sliver of light pierced the darkness before she brought it down across Narcissa's pale, tear-streaked cheek.

A loud, spine-chilling cackle filled the air and a haunting grin was plastered across the dark-haired witches face.

Bellatrix _adored_ inflicting pain and pushing her victims into a pit of endless fear. This was _bliss_; the shaking blonde squirming beneath her weight, blood seeping deliciously from the fresh gash on her otherwise perfect, porcelain skin.

The pain, for Narcissa, was quite the opposite. It was agonising.

"Bellatrix please…" Narcissa begged, for what, she was unsure, but she begged all the same.

"Please?" Bellatrix laughed aloud, her head tipping back as she did, raven curls bouncing. "Please what, love? Please end it now?"

After lifting her head, Bellatrix flicked her warm, yet snake-like tongue across the seeping wound on Narcissa's cheek, easing the pain momentarily before cruelly spitting back the blood in complete disgust. Narcissa flinched.

"Filth. Just as I thought. I should end it now; snap your scrawny little neck with my bare hands." With her threat, Bellatrix shifted her weight, increasing the force and pressure of her arm across her sister's chest.

"No, Bellatrix, you don't want to, I am your sister…" Narcissa's voice was weak and hopeless.

Narcissa was well aware that every target of Bellatrix's ended up dead or with zero chance of ever recapturing their sanity.

"No." Bellatrix's voice took a light, airy, carless tone. "No, I don't want to kill you. I don't want to waste my time."

Narcissa should have sighed with relief, but she knew better than to believe all was forgiven, and her chest continued to heave in terror.

"I would kill you, but you are already dead to me." Bellatrix dropped her little sister and cut all contact in more ways than one.

"You are dead to me." Bellatrix hissed once more as she looked down at Narcissa who now sat crumpled on the floor like a sad, shrivelled rose.

"_Dead_."

Bellatrix emphasised her point with a swift kick to Narcissa's side before turning on her heel and disappearing into the chilling shadows.


End file.
